dancing blurs

of late, i have been writing a lot.. (not good stuff obviously) i was writing a couple of totally different things..

my friend read some of the bits.. finally she told me, "congrats dude! you suck at versatile levels now"..

made my day... :) she is very considerate in her comments..

and i felt like taking a break from it..

what better way to scribble a few lines so worse and random, that i feel the former are better and get back to it..

so this becomes a post while i get back happily to the different stinking ones... here goes nothing..

finger tips, ripple the surface, rings;

extreme lights, the mecca a view sings;

too much the horses swiveled the dust,

as i rolled the lens, same sea and sand.

the crazy kids run on a focused sky-drop;

the fishing net, imprinting on the drops;

charred bricks and moss, diamond shapes;

the holi colors, slow speed, faces a prop.

under the sky, every city, colored roads;

the mahal, floors ahead in sulken cracks;

a lone camel, vast sand, orange skies;

there is longing, my frame has those colors.

the beghu folk dance flutters, on flames;

in space, the carvings and grace blurs;

a pilgrimage of child scribbled lines;

ashore a green top hill, the white lines.

magnifying lens, a beam and the sparks;

scorching to a hustling kiwi on ice;

forget a tripod, flash, filter, meter;

still i lock the dancing blurs! oh Snap!